


Last Name

by monroesherlock



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Designated Driving, F/M, Las Vegas, Misunderstandings, Rival Business AU, Woke Up Married, missandei is everything to me, overuse of the word fuck, sansa is sick of jon's shit, tyrion doesn't want to deal with his friend
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-21
Updated: 2018-06-07
Packaged: 2018-12-18 02:58:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11865225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monroesherlock/pseuds/monroesherlock
Summary: A night in Vegas turns into a disastrous morning after.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the song "Last Name" by Carrie Underwood.  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f27zNlmRMWU
> 
> My first time writing any of these characters. Not sure how I did. Let me know.

 

Dany wakes with a start and the almost immediately regrets it. Her head is killing her. Someone somewhere must be on her side though because the lights are blessedly still turned off. She considers just pulling the covers back over herself and trying to go back to sleep but her phone has already dinged twice. It’s probably Tyrion trying to figure out where the fuck she’s disappeared to. It was his turn to be the responsible one last night.

“That’s the last time we drink, Cuervo. Ever. Final. I’m going to make it a law.” She feels the bed shift next to her and suddenly gets a mouthful of hair “Missandei,” she grouses, “ _scoot the fuck over_.” She tries to give the other girl a hearty shove only to be met with a decidedly _not_ feminine grunt.

“Who the fuck-” she tries to roll away from him but gets herself tangled up in the sheets and next thing she knows, she’s toppling face first onto the floor.

“ _Jesus Christ_ , you’re loud.” He groans.

“Who the hell are you?”

“I could ask you the same question. What time is it?” He’s handsome, that’s for sure. Long black hair falling across his face in disheveled curls and a soulful pair of brown eyes. Normally, Dany would say he’s her type but right now she thinks that ship may have already sailed. She hastily gets to her feet and she’s glad to be at least partially clothed. She’s wearing an oversized tee-shirt that she’s 98% sure isn’t actually hers and isn’t that just fucking great? She spots her pants across the room on the floor next to her purse. She rushes to grab both, hastily yanking them up over her bare ass. Dany doesn’t have time to wait. She grabs her jacket off the desk chair, her panties off the lampshade, her shoes from the floor, and flees.

Her phone battery is at 15% and the number of missed calls tells her she’s in deep shit when she finally finds her way back to her friends. She dials the first number she sees and readies herself for a tongue lashing.

“ _Where the fuck have you been? I’ve been calling you for hours_.” She’s never heard Tyrion so pissed before.

“I’ll admit that I’m not entirely sure. Where are you? Give me an address and I’ll put in my GPS.”

Tyrion relays the directions to her and Dany sets out. It’s not that long of a walk back to their hotel. Her friends are waiting for her in the lobby looking disheveled but probably better than her.

“And where’s tall, dark, and handsome?” Missandei has on some of the darkest sunglasses Daenerys has ever seen. She’s instantly jealous because the Vegas sun seems to have it out for her. Missandei hands her a hair tie and for the first time, Dany wonders what she looks like.

“A fucking mess,” Tyrion answers the question she didn’t even get to ask. “The press would have a field day if you looked anything like yourself.”

“I thought you were DD-ing last night.” Dany hurriedly ties her hair up as they stroll out of the hotel. “Why the hell did you let me leave with him?”

“I didn’t. You were there one minute and then the next thing I knew, you’d vanished. This one was no help at all. I had to practically drag her out by her ear.” He points to Missandei who’s doing a pretty good job of keeping up the innocent face.

“There’s a Starbucks two blocks from our hotel. We’ll all feel better once we get some coffee in our system. What happens in Vegas right?” Missandei links their arms together and Dany sighs. She’s right. This is the first time she’s cut loose in ages. No need to sweat the details.

An hour and two large cups of coffee later, she finally notices the ring. Or rather, Tyrion notices the ring.

“Your finger’s turning green.” He observes. “Have you always had that?”

She looks down at her left hand, sees the simple gold (well, fake gold) band and nearly chokes.

“No. No I have not.”

“Girl,” Missandei says, “tell me you didn’t.”

“No fuckin way. I would never.”

“You were kind of a disaster last night.” Tyrion reminds her in a knowing voice.

“This! This is not okay! I can’t be _married_! Even I’m not that crazy!” She insists. Her friends don’t look convinced.

“Ring says otherwise.” Missandei takes a long, loud sip of her Frappuccino, looking at Dany over the rim of her sunglasses.

“Oh my god. No fucking way. I have to get it annulled.”

“Annulments are for couples who haven’t consummated their marriage, darling,” Missandei reminds her, “and honey. We both know that doesn’t apply to you. What’s his name?”

“I don’t fucking know!”

“Well, you’d better find out!”

Dany wants to kill them both.

 

\--

 

“You didn’t happen to see me come in last night, did you?” She asks the receptionist, a redheaded older guy who really looks like he doesn’t want to be there. “I might have, um,” she leans in close and whispers, “ _been_ with a guy.”

He nods knowingly. “Yes of course I remember, the newlyweds. You were both very excited. Very giggly.”

Dany tries her best not to faint from embarrassment. “I see. Well, you might have noticed I wasn’t in the _best shape_ last night. I uh, I don’t remember my room number.”

He gives her a knowing look. “I understand. Trust me, sweetheart. You’re not the first young lady I’ve seen in that situation.” He hands her a new room key with the number on it and sends her on her way.

 

\--

 

“Maybe he’s gone. Maybe he doesn’t speak English. What, god, of course, speaks English we talked this morning.” She groans. She’s stared down her father’s executive board. She can handle this, right?

Dany stands in front of room 1608 for a good 20 minutes before she slides the key card in and pushes the door open. “Honey I’m home.” She jokes sadly. She hears the shower running and resists the urge to bolt. She’s got to figure this out. If she goes home _married,_ Barristan will kill her. She’s supposed to be growing _into_ her responsibilities not screwing up.

Her tee shirt is laid out on the bed and it’s clear his things are still lying around. A duffle bag, a band tee shirt, and a pair of dark wash jeans. Why is she such a sucker for the obvious ones?

“You came back.” She hears him say. She turns to face her _husband_ and sucks in a nervous breath. “Way you ran out of here, I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.” His hair’s slicked back, steam clinging to his flushed chest. Christ. He’s built, but not obnoxiously so. Shorter than she normally goes for but with a face like that, drunk Daenerys wouldn’t have been able to resist.

“I remember you shouting at me. It’s all a little blurry.” He drops the towel much to her dismay and makes work of stepping back into those dark wash jeans, sans underwear. _Christ._ “It was like six in the morning and the inside of my mouth tasted like a fuzzy sweater. I think I needed to get a few more hours of sleep in before I even tried to work out what happened last night. Feels kinda obvious though.” He shoots her a lazy smirk. “Can’t say I’m mad about it.”

“Really, how about marriage?” She holds up her hand, the fake gold band glinting.

That seems to get his attention. “You’re fucking joking.” He says.

“I’m really fucking not. The people at the desk said they remembered the _newlyweds_ who stumbled in and rented this room.”

He groans, head falling into his hands. “Sansa is going to _kill me._ ”

“Sansa? Is that your girlfriend? Your _wife_?”

“What? No! She’s my sister! I’m not married. Or I wasn’t married.” He yanks a tee-shirt over his head and groans. “Okay, we can figure this out. This is Vegas, right? Maybe they’ve got a way to undo it quickly.”

“My friend says we need a marriage license. If we don’t have one then the marriage isn’t real. I don’t have it so I was wondering if you do. If you don’t, then that’s a good thing.” She grabs at his duffle and starts looking through it.

“You know you could ask first.” She looks back to see him watching her with his arms crossed, an annoyed look on his face.

“I’m your _wife_ I can look wherever I want.” She snaps. Nothing but clothes, a passport, and finally-fuck. She pulls the small piece of paper from his things, turns it over and groans. There’s her hastily scrawled signature. Right next to his chicken scratch.

“Mr. and Mrs. Jon Snow.” She wants to bang her head against the floor. It’d hurt less.

He snatches the marriage license from her hands and swears. “There’s no fucking way.” He breathes. “Daenerys Targaryen.”

“I guess it’s, Snow now. Everyone calls me Dany.” She takes a deep breath and considers their next move. “Okay, my best friend is a lawyer. We can ask her what to do next. I’m sure this happens all the time.”

Jon looks like he wants to protest but thinks better of it. He sighs and grabs his bag. “Okay, let’s go then.”

 

\--

 

“You’re a lawyer Missandei. Does this look legit?” They’re standing in her and Missandei’s shared hotel suite.

“I’m a civil rights attorney and your occasional legal advisor. Not a divorce lawyer.” Missandei takes the document anyway and looks at it closely. “I’d take it to a county clerk's office but it looks legit to me. Congrats. What’s on the registry? I suggest appliances.”

Daenerys punches her in the arm.

“So, divorce is the only option then?”

“Probably.”

“Fuck. My sister’s gonna kill me.”

“She doesn’t have to know. We go to the clerk's office now and we get this sorted out. Everything gets fixed before we even leave Vegas.”

“Yeah, that’s not gonna work. I have to be on a plane in three hours.” Jon gives her an apologetic look but he’s already grabbing his bag and getting to his feet.

“Wait, but what about-”

“We’ll figure it out, Dany,” he assures her. “I have to be on that plane, though. If I’m not home tonight my sister _will_ fly down here to figure out what’s going on and you really don’t want that.”

“Then I have to go with you. I need to get this settled as quickly as possible. ”

“Um,” Tyrion says. “Dany, can I talk to you for a moment?”

“Not right now.”

“I bought my tickets weeks ago-”

“They’ll have to make a concession.”

“It’s an _airline_ -”

“Don’t get her started.”

“ _Daenerys!_ ”

“Not now Tyrion!”

“You can’t come with me.” Jon throws his duffle over his shoulder and sighs. “Dany, look, I have to go home. I’ll talk to my lawyer there and we’ll hopefully be able to work something out.”

“Or I could go with you and we can sit down like adults and put this behind us. We get a quiet divorce and then you never have to see me again.” Daenerys crosses her arms and stares him down. He shuffles his feet some, huffs, and then sighs.

“Fine. If you can get a plane ticket, you can come.”

“Already done,” Missandei says. Missandei waves her phone at them. “Text me all about the in-laws when you get there, darling.”

“So, Jon Snow. Shall we go?”


	2. Chapter 2

“So let me get this straight,” Sansa Stark rubs her temples in soothing circles in an attempt to calm down. It doesn't work. Jon’s always had a way of crawling under her skin. "You decided to get married. In Vegas. Without telling anyone. Without even knowing the girl." She's sitting in their shared office on the top floor of the Stark Building. She knew Jon taking a trip to Vegas with friends would end badly but she didn't want to be a nag. God. She’s never gonna doubt her instincts again.

"I was drunk," Jon says like that answers every question she has. He doesn't sound nervous, just resigned to the fact. She wants to strangle him. The moment he gets to the office she’s gonna bash his face in with a hole punch like she should have years ago.

"I seem to recall a conversation about responsibility. About an agreement for us to co-run this company and how we'd both have to be on our best behavior for this to work. Does randomly marrying some bimbo in Vegas scream responsibility to you?" She feels the blood rushing to her cheeks, feels herself getting worked up. Out of the corner of her eye, she can see Tormund and Davos poking their heads out of their offices, curious to see what has her so worked up.

"It does not." Jon sighs.

"I see. So we're going to handle this quietly. You show up, she disappears without a fuss, and we pretend this little dalliance never happened. Hopefully, you won’t have a similar lapse in judgment in the future." Her voice is cutting, slices through the air and sends chills down Jon’s spine. He doesn’t want to tell her the bad news.

"Well, I get the feeling it's going to be a bit more complicated than that."

\--

"You work for Stark Tech?" Daenerys pulls off her sunglasses and almost laughs She was supposed to meet with co-CEO’s of Stark tech in the next few weeks anyway. Maybe Barristan wouldn't be so disappointed with her after all. 

"I do," Jon says quietly as the board the elevator. It’s a long ride to the top floor. "My sister's planned to meet us here with her lawyer. There are some things that need to be worked out. Since. You know. We didn’t sign a prenup and all."

Daenerys quirks an eyebrow at that. "Please forgive me if I've given you the wrong impression, Jon Snow. I have no intentions of holding you up for money. I want to be free of this as quickly as you do. Besides, if there’s anything I need in this world, it sure as hell isn’t money Dad and big bro made sure of that."

“Nice Family?”

“Oh yeah. Up in the northeast. Tiny little company called Targaryen Enterprises. No biggie.” It is not, in fact, a tiny company. When her father and brother died and Vis got himself sent to the nuthouse, she found herself sitting at the head of her family’s legacy. It’s a hell of a job but she’s surprisingly good at the business part. Personal life? Not so much. 

“You’re Daenerys...Targaryen.” Jon says slowly. He takes in her (his) shitty band tee, olive jeans, and messy hair. She’s nothing like what he expected.

“Sure am.”

“Oh. This is great. Sansa’s gonna kill me.”

“I’d think she’d like you being married to a billionaire.”

“Considering you’re trying to buy my family’s company out from under us? No, she’ll be pissed.”

He watches her pause, her face placid. She’s mulling him over now, seeing him maybe for the first time.

"Jon Snow. You mean, Jon Stark,” a slight head tilt, silver-blonde locks falling over her face, “I knew I knew your face. You're one of the CEO’s of Stark Tech. Amazing." It has to be fate. The elevator doors ding open and Jon sighs. Sansa’s waiting for them in all her intimidating glory. 

“I have things set up in the conference room,” is all she says.

“The other Ms. Stark I presume.” Dany shakes Sansa’s hand."This is wonderful. Saves me a flight up here. Let me get my board on the phone and we can get right to business.” 

Sansa’s face goes hard. She leads them into the conference room and shuts the door,"I know what kind of business you want, Ms. Targaryen. We're not selling." 

Jon heads to the corner, pours all three of them cups of coffee just to catch his breath.

"It’s my understanding that it’s Mrs. Snow now. A shame. I’ll have to get that fixed. I don't seem to recall you having a choice, Ms. Stark. Last time I checked, your sales were in the toilet. The Lannisters are circling the wagon waiting for the wolves to die." She takes a sip of the offered coffee and thinks, contract negotiations running through her mind. It wouldn’t take Tyrion too long to draw something up. He’d be thrilled to see her turning such as shitty situation into a golden opportunity. Well, maybe not thrilled but certainly intrigued.  

Dany kicks her feet up on the large oak table and sends the redhead a smile. "You don't have to sell I guess, I can just wait you out. It'd be a shame though to see such a powerful family fall from grace. I hear Ramsay Bolton's made an offer. He sics his dogs on Stark Tech and there won’t be anything left but scraps."

"Vultures, all of you." Sansa snarls, her red lips curling back. “My family’s held this company for decades. I’ll be damned if I let it slip into your hands now.”

"What can I say. Vultures like dead things and it looks like Stark Tech's on its last leg. You're out of options. Besides, wouldn't you rather sell to family? Tell her, dear." She chuckles at the sour look on Jon’s face.

“As soon as Sam gets here with the divorce papers, you can be on your way.” He even more attractive when he’s pissed off, those menacing dark eyes piercing straight to her core.

“Now wait a minute there, darling. Maybe I’m not ready to end our nuptials just yet. Besides, we didn’t really get much of a honeymoon, did we? Least we could do is finish that out, right?” She says it just to watch his face flame and she’s rewarded instantly, his ears and cheeks going a pleasant shade of pink. 

“Your dalliance with my brother is acknowledged. He made a mistake, one that we hope to rectify swiftly. One that won’t have any impact on any future negotiations.

“Oh, now we’re negotiating?”

She watches Sansa’s hackles rise, watches Jon nervously shifting from foot to foot. Interesting. Maybe he doesn’t know what side he’s supposed to be on. 

‘I can use that,’ she thinks. 

“Well, my dear husband and I just spent 5 hours in an airport and another 2 and half hours on a plane. I’m beat. Aren’t you, babe?”

"I'll help you find a hotel." Jon finally concedes.

She's not going anywhere easy.

\--

“Do you want to explain to me why I’m finding out you’re married from Tyrion of all people.” Barristan’s voice is soft but there’s that simmering layer of displeasure that she can’t quite avoid.

“Before you get mad, you’ll be pleased to know that it’s a good match.” She assures him.

“A man you found in a dive bar in Vegas is a good match?” His voice is incredulous.

“Considering he’s one of the co-CEO’s of Stark Tech? I’d say yes.” Barristan is quiet for a few beats.

“I'm sending Tyrion and Jorah up there tomorrow. Should I send Missandei?

“Sure. This feels like something that could use a woman’s touch." She'll need some clothes. And a hairstylist. She could pull this off.

\--

Jon drives her to her hotel at the end of the day. He looks better, more comfortable now that he's back on his home turf.  She's got to knock him off balance.

“You’re more than welcome to keep me company upstairs, Jon.” She says.

“I shouldn’t.” He sighs.

“But you’re going to anyway.” He walks her to her suite and with slight prodding joins her inside. He takes the offered glass of whiskey from the minibar and throws it back. Finally, he meets her eye.

‘“Look, this company means everything to my family. Even if I wanted to hand it over to you, my sisters would never allow it.”

“Sisters? You mean the Red Wolf isn’t the only in-law I’ll be battling for approval?” Dany grins at him, clinks her glass against his, much to his dismay.

“Arya’s not much involved in the business. She’s in school still.” He steps around her to top off his glass before downing it. “Sansa does most of the work.”

“And you fuck off to Vegas to sleep with hot girls?”

“I don’t know. Are you hot?”

“Smokin’.” She sets her glass down on the counter and leans forward, brushing her hand against his arm. She can’t remember much about their wild night together but if the bruises on the insides of her thighs are anything to go by, it was one hell of a ride. She’d be willing to see a repeat performance.

“I am under express orders not to ‘do anything stupid.’” Jon maneuvers away from her hand, heads to the opposite side of the room.

“Do you do everything your sister tells you?”

“If I did, we wouldn't be married. So. I should start.” He shrugs. His cheeks have gone pink again. She’s not sure if it's the alcohol or her. She likes to think it’s her.

“Or maybe things happen for a reason.” She smiles then, knowing. “I’ll leave you for tonight, Jon Snow.” She sends him a mock salute and sets about making a plan.

Dany always gets what she wants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my nsfw tumblr.   
> my sfw tumblr.


	3. Chapter 3

Jon manages to drag himself back to his apartment. Dany kept him late but she’s persuasive so he really can’t be mad. It’s great to finally be in his own home after so long away. It feels like years rather than a few days with everything that’s happened. After the day he’s had, all he wants to do is lie down and forget the mess he and his family have found themselves in. 

He breathes a sigh of relief when he pushes open his door, happy to finally be home. His relief quickly evaporates, however, when he sees that Sansa’s waiting for him (of course she is). She’s sitting on his couch, stuffy business attire shed. She’s wearing one of his ratty old tee shirts and a pair of sweats. There’s a drink in her hand. He readies himself for another thorough tongue lashing. 

“Scotch and soda,” she says when she catches his eye, “I raided your stash. Knew you wouldn’t mind.” She doesn’t look mad anymore, just resigned. “How’s the wife? I don’t see any new hickies so I guess you kept your head on straight.” She kicks up her heels and props her feet up on his couch.

“She’s still a menace,” Jon says as he tugs off his jacket. He tosses it into the chair next to the couch and maneuvers Sansa’s feet so he can sit down, “and I don’t think she’s gonna be let down easily.”

“We can fend her off. We’ve managed on our own before and we’ll be okay in the future. This is just a rough patch. There’s always a rough patch.” Sansa downs the rest of her cocktail and sets the glass down on Jon’s coffee table with a clatter.

He isn’t so sure. Dany’s got cash to burn and tons of influence around the country and the world. She could make things unbearable for them if she so chose. Making her an enemy might not be in their best interest. Especially if there’s an alternative.

“Come out of your head, Jon. I know you’re thinking horrible thoughts. After what you put me through today, you owe me a massage.” She prods at his shoulder as she chuckles humorlessly.

Jon tries to find some levity. “I’ll pay for a spa day. I’m married to a billionaire after all. Maybe I can get her to give me an allowance.”

“Ugh don’t remind me. She’s so fucking smug,” Sansa groans. “I’m staying here tonight. I’m going to drink all your liquor and then hate myself in the morning.”

“Good to know. Thanks for the warning. You’ve got clothes in the guest room.” Jon sits with her until she falls asleep, wondering what Daenerys must be plotting. Whatever it is, he’s sure they aren’t as prepared as Sansa seems to think they are.

\--

“Who schedules a meeting at 7 am? Honestly, I thought lunch meetings were all the rage these days. Missandei, did you bring my favorite earrings?” Dany lazily searches her hotel room. She doesn’t care if she’s late. Her money’s good whether she shows up at 7 am or 8:30.

“You have, like, six pairs of favorite earrings. I grabbed what I saw on your dresser, Dany. If they weren’t there then they’re not in that bag.” Missandei had arrived late the night before with an overwhelmed looking bellhop and six bags of luggage.

“No wait, I found them! You’re the best.” They’re a pair of simple pearl studs, a gift from an ex that she hadn’t the heart to return or throw away. They were too beautiful.

“I also brought your makeup bag. You don’t really need it but it’s not like it could hurt. If we’re going for a seduction, we might as well pull out all the stops.” Missandei digs through the kit to pull out a tube of lipstick. “This feels like a job for a nice red, don’t you think?”

“Every job’s a job for a nice red.” Dany pulls her hair back into a quick but tidy braid while Missandei chooses things from one of her suitcases.

“I say you go with the grey pencil skirt. The one with the white pinstripes? It makes your ass look great and from the way he was staring, I get the feeling that’s something we can use.”

“You’re diabolical, love,” Dany laughs as she reaches for the recommended skirt, “this is why we’re best friends.” She stares at it a moment while contemplating the virtues of underwear vs no underwear. 

On one hand, she really wants to see how well the Jon Snow train rides. On the other, conquering the Stark’s company would probably feel about a thousand times better than anything he could do. She settles goes with blue.

“Don’t think I’m here for free either. If I’m your personal legal counsel this week then I better get paid like it Miss Moneybags.”

“That’s Mrs. to you, ma’am.” Dany pulls a white blouse out of her suitcase and puts it on. She takes a look at herself in the mirror and thinks, for a moment she looks like her brother. He would have been great, Barristan tells her. 

But she will be greater.

\--

Daenerys is late. Sansa looks incensed and Jon is...Jon is worried. 

Sansa checks her watch for the fifth time in the last five minutes.

“It’s almost eight.” She snarls. 

“It is,” Jon says placidly.

“And yet she’s not here.”

“She is not.”

“Maybe there’s traffic?” Sam offers gently.

“Must be.” Jon can hear Sansa grinding her teeth and makes a note to himself to sit in between her and his wife.

Daenerys arrives at 8:05 with two lawyers and a drink from Starbucks. So. Not traffic then.

“Hi, all. My goodness, you all are early risers.” Dany doesn’t in the seat they obviously prepared for her by bypasses it entirely in favor of settling in the open seat right next to Jon. “Hello, Jon.” She grins lasciviously at him and Jon feels his stomach bottom out. She looks like a shark, no, a dragon, ready to devour him.

He’s not so sure he’d mind being devoured come to think of it.

“If we’re ready to begin? Over an hour behind schedule.” Sansa’s voice yanks him away from that line of thinking.in.”

“Of course,” Dany’s smile is predatory, “Let's begin.” 

\--

They break for lunch and Jon is, frankly, exhausted. Sitting between two people entirely unwilling to budge is gonna drive him insane. Sansa’s been pacing back and forth for almost 15 minutes when an idea finally comes to him.

“Maybe we can work this to our advantage.” He says.

“How the hell does a buyout work to our advantage, Jon. Explain that to me because from where I’m standing, she’s about to set our family’s legacy on fire.” Sansa kicks off her heels and collapses into her desk chair finally.

“She thinks she can play us. I say we play her right back. Let's face it, we're gonna have to sell one way or another. We’ve got to start accepting that.” Sansa opens her mouth to protest but Jon silences her with a look. “Let's make sure we can do it on our terms, Sansa,” he keeps his tone careful but sure. Sansa’s a smart woman. She should realize that the only way to keep their family’s legacy alive is to negotiate. Dany’s their best option as hard as that may be to swallow. “Unless you have a hail Mary investor we haven’t talked about, I’m not sure how you expect us to come out on top.”

“There’s always Baelish,” Sansa says listlessly. “It always seemed like the worst option but now…” She puts her head in her hands.  

“It’s still the worst option. He’s a creep. We've got one hand on the wheel right now. I think we should try to keep this control before it gets taken from us.” Jon puts a hand on her shoulder. “I wouldn’t suggest it if I believed there was a way around it.”

She finally looks up at him. “Then you’re our best hope. You’re gonna have to convince her. Or trick her. Whichever works.”

Whichever works. 

**Author's Note:**

> [my nsfw tumblr.](http://bittlebarnes.tumblr.com/)   
>  [my sfw tumblr.](http://monroesherlock.tumblr.com/)
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> I post game of thrones stuff on both. Feel free to visit me.
> 
> It's actually much harder than you think to accidentally get married in vegas.


End file.
